C4 A hug

"You, what are you doing here"

The woman woke up from her sleep and shouted at the person standing at the door of the room.

"She is back... She is back from prison."

"How is that possible isn't she in the cell for life imprisonment? How could she possibly return? You must be mistaken."

"No, my informant can't be wrong."

He had confidence in his men.

With a wobbly leg, the man got onto the bed and held the terrified middle-aged woman. Her body was fluttering, and she could not say anything after hearing what her husband had said.

In dark cornern of the room, the woman in black sneered and lurched away silently.

She was uninterested in their conversation. She entered a vast library where thousands of books were lying in wait for someone to read them. Moving around, she took out book number 1017. The book was an old, romantic novel. But she was not here to read the book. She jiggled it vigorously, and a piece of paper fell out. She gently held the paper while maintaining the book's original position. Her frown was tightly tangled as the paper lay empty. After a careful inspection, she turned to the villa's old abandoned study. The study was in poor condition; it appears that no one had entered this area of the building in years.

The room was dark and dusty, but the brown color furnishings demonstrated the intelligence of the person who used to work there. She scrutinized the room with misty eyes and gently touched the study table with her cylinder fingers.

She has no recollection of anything belonging to the person who used to devour the most valuable time and make every powerful decision here, but she felt the presence. A drop of tears slipped from her cheeks to her chin and fell to the floor. She had no idea when a single drop turned into rain and she slid down on her knees. With both hands, she tried to quell her sobs but endeavoured again and again, she still failed to hold back. She knew she could not lose herself in the wolf and tiger den, but her heart was as stubborn as a mule, refusing to listen to her brain and sobbing instead.

"Sorry ….. Dad, I am sorry."

Only a single sentence left her lips in her sorry state.

She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her two hands. Her eyes were wet and red, but her posture was firm as a mountain. She got to her feet and opened a drawer that was affixed to the table. The various types of colourful bottles were kept organized. Taking out the small bottle of liquid she spread it on the empty paper. The paper quickly dried, leaving behind some written words. She was proven correct. She dashed back to the library and took out books one by one from the middle row.

Gathering ten additional blank sheets, she proceeded to the study area and completed the process. Words began to appear on those papers gradually. Though not shocked, she was nonetheless depressed—both for herself and her family. And she vowed she would not let anyone go unharmed.

She slipped out of the mansion quietly and quickly, moving ahead. Her movements were clean and smooth.

The night was dark and cold, with the pale moon and street lights creating a chiaroscuro effect on tall buildings that remained as lonely as ever. Standing under the shadow, an aristocratic face appeared in her mind and she wondered if he was still inside the building.

On the top floor of the building, the man stood at the French window, a cigarette still between his fingers, waiting to be lit. He looked into the void night, and the nothingness in his eyes grew as the pale moon hid behind the menace.

His eyes fell on the dark street as an angelic face appeared in his mind, and he wondered where she was at this moment. He felt as though her hazel purple eyes were still watching him from a distance. He sensed she was waiting for him to come down from under the building, even though it was impossible to see anyone in the dead of night.

She came out to look for him and waited under the building on a dark and cold drizzling night, just like she did years ago when he was late for home and his cell phone was turned off.

Years later the night was still cold dark and drizzling his body worked faster than his mind and he was already down the building. The girl was still dressed in a thin white dress, her lustrous hair floating in the air, and she was shuddering, as if she had been there for years. Her face was paler than the moon. He could no longer wait to hold her in his strong arm.

He dashed forward, held her tightly, refusing to let her fall or run again. He had waited, waited years for this moment. He felt her cold body and constricted his grip. Putting his face deep into her neck, he closed his eyes, breathed in the scent of her hair. A warm liquid left his eyes perplexed, was it a raindrop or his tears? He did not want to cry for her he did not want to hold her either but his mind and his heart were in a brawl. His heart vetoed to listen to his mind and the hater and malice he regaled for years frazzled in a flash. He thoroughly lost himself to her.

The woman in his arm sobbed, her cold and shuddering body convulsing a little more and he heard her soft whisper,

"Iden…I …I missed you…"her voice quivered as her cold arms circled his west resting her head on his chest.

He too missed her, missed her so much that he lost all sense of existence. "Ellaya…"

He whispered back in her ear. She raised her head and looked into his eyes. Their gaze met freezing the cold temperature to the negative. A drop of rain hugged the plunging tears and collapsed.